


Espresso Romano

by littlericeball



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Bad Flirting, Coffee Shops, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-07-06 23:13:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15896094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlericeball/pseuds/littlericeball
Summary: It had been a few days since Lovino had stepped foot into the familiar cafe only a short walk from him and his brothers small apartment.Finally though, there seemed to be time opening back up in the Italian’s schedule and now he found himself once more greeted by the familiar scent of pastries and the hum of patron conversations. A few machines whirled to life on occasion in the background, and Lovino couldn’t help but let out a breath of contentment. It was strange to him, how a public place could feel more like home than his own apartment at times. Most of the staff knew him well by now, even the owner could remember his name and face and often smiled fondly in greeting when Lovino came in. Today there wasn’t many people working, just two from what the brunette could see, that stupid albino and.. Who the hell was that?-“How about an Espresso Romano for the feisty Italian, sí?”





	Espresso Romano

It had been a few days since Lovino had stepped foot into the familiar cafe only a short walk from him and his brothers small apartment. He usually liked to stop by at least once a day to grab a cup of coffee, even if he didn’t have time to sit and relax, but the end of the semester was fast approaching and Lovino had been far too busy to even consider anything besides the shitty coffee pot in his kitchen. It wasn’t satisfying, but it did its job well enough.

  
Finally though, there seemed to be time opening back up in the Italian’s schedule and now he found himself once more greeted by the familiar scent of pastries and the hum of patron conversations. A few machines whirled to life on occasion in the background, and Lovino couldn’t help but let out a breath of contentment. It was strange to him, how a public place could feel more like home than his own apartment at times. Most of the staff knew him well by now, even the owner could remember his name and face and often smiled fondly in greeting when Lovino came in. Today there wasn’t many people working, just two from what the brunette could see, that stupid albino and.. Someone Lovino didn’t quite recognize. Maybe they had hired someone new? That would be annoying, he liked having his order remembered and having people spell his damn name right.

The sooner the newbie learned the better, and Lovino walked up to the counter with his order on the tip of his tongue, ready to fire it out quicker than able to be scribbled down. Sure he was being a bit harsh, but he didn’t come nearly every day to just be treated like some stranger at this place. Hell by this point the staff knew a few things about him and he them. There was Francis, some snooty Frenchman with a pretty accent and some interesting ideas about love. Lovino liked to pretend the man irritated the hell out of him, but he could never hate someone who made such good food. They’d had a few conversations about culinary topics in the past and maybe in some odd way they could be considered friends. Or at least they nearly could be if the damn Frenchman would stop flirting with him, that is.

  
Then there was that quiet one, the Canadian with those odd purple-ish eyes. Matthew was his name, though for some reason no one who worked with him could remember that for the life of them. Lovino couldn’t get why, though the blonde had been beside himself with glee when Lovino had remembered him. Honestly each time they said hello to each other he still seemed shocked. Lovino didn’t get what the big deal was, if someone was going to bother to remember his face he damn well remember theirs, right? It was just common courtesy.Don’t get him started on that damn Prussian though- sure, the other two could be considered friends or something of the sort but that damn albino was the antithesis of everything that pissed Lovino off--

“ _Hola_ ~ What can I get for you?” The new barista asked, a bright grin immediately decorating his face when he saw Lovino approach the counter. The interjection had interrupted the frenzied Italian’s thoughts and he caught himself glaring at the Prussian, Gilbert, who just snickered back as his cocky ass usually did. He seemed to find Lovino’s hatred for him hilarious and nothing more, which only served to aggravate the small brunette even further. With a harsh breath out to refocus on ordering some overly complicated drink to spite the newbie, Lovino fixed his gaze on the chalkboard menu to avoid looking at the man who’d greeted him with some obnoxious Spanish accent. His brows were furrowed and he clicked his tongue in irritation, that damn foreign greeting was really the last thing he wanted to hear today. Did the cafe really need to add another asshole who spoke in their native tongue? As if Francis didn’t spout his disgusting language enough as is.

  
Finally having settled on his order and run it over in his mind, Lovino let his gaze drop to meet the gaze of the newbie, his amber eyes hard in irritation. The second they landed on the tan Spaniard in front of him though, wearing some cheesy smile that showed off his pearly whites, Lovino forgot whatever asshole order he’d put together in his mind. He breathed out a short curse in Italian under his breath and felt his cheeks grow hot despite himself. He didn’t quite know what he had expected, but someone his age with messy curly chocolate lock and the most lively green eyes he’d ever seen, was not it.

“I- I’ll have-… _M-Merda_ …” Lovino looked down in frustration, breaking eye contact in the hopes the burning throughout his body would subside. Still he could feel those emerald eyes lingering on him. With the order long gone from his thoughts, the Italian froze for a second in a panic of what to do, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as his brain tried to throw something together at top speed. “What-.. What do you recommend, bastard?” The profanity naturally slipped from his lips, a habit he’d developed long ago that Feliciano liked to say was used when Lovino’s anxiety peeked. If his brother was right about that, it didn’t mean great things for Lovino’s mental health.

  
The barista perked up when asked for his suggestion of drink, seemingly unaffected by the profanity flung his way, both the English and Italian, though he may have not understood the latter. He looked Lovino up and down with bright eyes, making the shorter blush an even richer shade of maroon. Lovino could have sworn he heard the familiar laughter of that damn Prussian from wherever the hell he was behind the counter, but was too distracted by his current predicament to be sure.

“How about an Espresso Romano for the feisty Italian, _sí_?” Lovino could have punched the stupid Spaniard square in the jaw, if the flaming embarrassment would just settle and let him move his arms from where they were nervously pinned to his sides. Of course Francis would hire someone like this, someone illegally handsome with an idiotic idea of what flirting was. He’d yell at the blonde later for his choice in employee. Even if the only reaction he would probably receive was the damn Frenchman wiggling his eyebrows and teasing him for having a crush.

“ _Che cazzo_ \- that’s a headache remedy n-not a-… ” Lovino managed, letting out a heated breath and pondering for a second if he should just get his usual and leave the shop. He didn’t think he’d be able to enjoy his time if he had to worry about some newbie keeping him on his toes. “But- My head does hurt damn it so… ” Lovino caved easily, desperate to simply be free of this interaction so he could beat himself up later about being so painfully flustered. The barista nodded and offered another blinding warm smile before grabbing a cup and turning to make the drink. Lovino gladly took it as a cue to take his usual seat, a small table for two that sat near the back and away from the majority of patrons. Most liked to sit near the large windows at the front of the shop, facing out towards the busy streets. It was a nice way to people watch, but Lovino preferred sitting deeper in the cafe, letting himself become consumed in its atmosphere of familiar scents and classical music playing softly over dispersed speakers and soft chatter. Even the whirl of the coffee machines set him into an easy relaxation, like white noise that helped him forget his worries even just for an hour or two.

  
When the small Italian finally sat down he couldn’t help but let his shoulders relax, he hadn’t realized how much he missed the simple pleasure of just allowing himself to enjoy one of his favorite places. Was it possible to become addicted to just a location? If so, Lovino wouldn’t doubt he’d developed one for this place, if just his relief to be back was anything to go by. A few peaceful moments in his favorite place brought relaxation back into Lovnio’s bones and he took a deep breath in, letting it pass out his lips slowly as he rationalized his situation. It was just some new barista and he’d nearly ran out just because the newbie had a few charming qualities. Pathetic. Lovino let his head fall into his arms atop the table, sometimes he wished he was as calm as Feliciano in these situations. The elder Italian twin couldn’t flirt for shit when it came to men. His _Nonno_ had only given tips for how to please women, and somehow Feli found it easy to apply those to men as well, while Lovino had always floundered. It didn’t make sense to the elder Italian, how he could woo women with a few words rolled off his tongue, yet stutter like some boiled tomato when a man simply gave him a charming smile. He really should stick with the ladies like _Nonno_ said.

“Er… Romano!~” An accented voice called out in glee, catching Lovino’s attention. When he looked up, emerald eyes locked with his, blush returning a minuscule amount from the connection. With their gazes met, the Spanish barista beckoned him over with one hand, the other holding a drink. Slowly, Lovino stood up and made his way over, brows furrowed in confusion as he approached, only for the brunette in front of him to blush a tad. The red tint looked beautiful on his tan skin, the Italian mused before being able to muffle his own interested thoughts.  
“ _Lo siento_ , I forgot to ask for your name..” The worker explained, offering a sheepish smile to Lovino in the hopes to be forgiven to his rookie mistake. The Italian felt a bit silly himself, having been so used to his name being known by all the workers that he hadn’t remembered the usual etiquette of simply ordering coffee.

“It’s Lovino…” He replied, taking his drink from beautifully sunkissed hands and trying not to smile as he saw the scrawled writing of ‘ _Espresso Romano_ ’ along the side of the white cup. It was endearing how the letters were scrawled, not messy enough to be illegible but nothing like the polished script of Francis or the bubbly swoops of Matthew’s handwriting. It was a slanted font, the O’s more oval than their ordinary circular nature, and the S’s nothing more than crimped lines. When Lovino looked up, he couldn’t help but blush at how attentive the barista was, who the hell would be like that in the middle of a work shift? He’d given the order, there was nothing to keep him lingering, yet- “..What’s your name? I know all that idiots that work here but-… you’re new.” If he was going to linger, Lovino supposed he could find out a name, since so few people worked at the shop, nametags weren’t really used, and he wasn’t about to spend the next week in frustration with the missing gap of information about this newbie. The barista laughed at the question, the sound making the Lovino flustered all the more, his grip tightening around the paper cup.

“I’m Antonio, it’s nice to meet a regular.~” The Spaniard said, leaning his elbows on the counter that separated them. “Though, I think Romano is a cute nickname for you.” He added with another melodic laugh, flashing his gums with how wide his smile spread. Lovino practically fumed in response, his face reddening to a concerning degree as he fumbled with how to respond, possible ways to insult Antonio flinging around in his brain but his mouth unable to settle on a single one to spit out. When he got too flustered, the Italian man tended to struggle to from his usual insults into the English language, it was much easier to simply let his mother tongue take over and spit Italian profanities. Yet somehow even those wouldn’t slip out now, just leaving him a bumbling mess under the emerald gaze of the barista across from him.

  
Any second now he felt he’d implode from being unable to speak his usual defensive vulgarity, his face just getting redder and redder until he burst right under the gaze of- of _Antonio_. Hell, that was a nice name. Lovino finally looked away, back down to the paper cup in his hand with a small amount of curiosity. He hadn’t had a _Caffè Romano_ since _Nonno_ had made him one when he was sick years ago. The drink never tasted the best, the espresso only cut with a bit of lemon juice that supposedly brought out the sweetness, but that was a bunch of crap. Hesitantly, Lovino took a slow sip of the drink, preparing his palate for the bitter taste of espresso and zing of lemon. It wasn’t as awful as he remembered, settling on his tongue in a much smoother than _Nonno’s_ did. Lovino swallowed it slowly, looking back up to the Spanish Barista with a new level of respect. If he could make this taste decent, he must at least be damn good at his job, at least Francis knew how to hire well.

“How is it?” Antonio asked, eyes alight with curiosity and excitement. He seemed overly eager for praise, probably wanting to impress on his first day of the job or something like that. Lovino wasn’t about to inflate this man’s ego any more than it already was though, so instead of praise he simply gave a short scoff and a shrug of his shoulders. A usual blow-off response he often used when his silver tongue felt more like lead.

“It’s drinkable or whatever-” He muttered, brushing a strand of hair from his eyes, catching the growth of the Spaniards grin as he did so, heart skipping at the sight as well as anger flaring in his gut. Who the hell would be happy with that sort of reply from a customer? Lovino felt himself rush towards the brink of explosion once more, hand tightening onto the paper cup once again. “ _Ciao, idiota_ …” Lovino blurted out, his eyes staring down at the drink held within his hands as he turned away, his feet leading him out of the door. The bell chiming him a sweet goodbye before his pace quickened and swept him out of earshot.

  
It took awhile for Lovino to gather himself, pausing at a bench to eventually take a breath and lower his skipping heart. Hell, he had just wanted to relax and wash away the knots of stress that the last week had caused him but instead it felt as if a new tightness had worked its way into his neck. Lovino grumbled under his breath and rubbed tiredly at his new point of tension, standing back up from the bench and beginning the rest of his slow walk home. God, Feli will never let him live this down.

**Author's Note:**

> Hola - Hello (Spanish)  
> Merda - Shit (Italian)  
> Sí - Yes (Spanish)  
> Che cazzo - What the fuck (Italian)  
> Nonno - Grandfather (Italian)  
> Lo siento - I'm sorry (Spanish)  
> Ciao, idiota - Bye, idiot (Italian)
> 
> Alright so i very much enjoyed playing with the "Espresso Romano" thing, (which is a real drink from Italy by the way, often used to treat headaches rather than as a drink for pleasure) and I feel this his potential to continue but I'm unsure if i want to make this a chapter series or not yet. Let me know if you'd like more of this! I enjoyed the dynamics i established between the two and have a few ideas brewing on how I could continue. Honestly if just one person comments wanting more I'll probably do it aha,,


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